Seasons Of Love
by changenotcoins
Summary: The holidays always a spark a bit of love in their hearts.
1. Chapter 1

He feels like a kid on Christmas as he wakes up early in the wee hours of the morning with no struggle; Thanksgiving is_ the_ best holiday of the year. Sam is eager to prepare the food and more importantly, he wants to ravage the many lavish dishes he knows will be gracing the table later that evening. He dutifully invited each of his coworkers over to his place for the celebratory meal, fully aware that the only way to spend a holiday is with the people you love.

And the team is the only family he has.

He grins to himself as he sees G's sleeping form on the couch across from him. He looks adorable in his sleep as Sam always knew he would, curled up for warmth underneath the thick blanket, a worn and tattered shirt of Sam's hanging loosely from his broad chest. He witnesses a small smile creep onto G's face in his slumber and he stirs, popping one eye open to gaze at Sam groggily.

G yawns lazily and slowly sits up, eyes widening in anticipation. "Is it time to start cooking yet?"

Sam scoffs and pats G's leg lightly. "You won't be cooking _anything, _sweetheart. We actually want to _eat_ a Thanksgiving meal this year."

G knows that the use of the word sweetheart is used by Sam in passing, but he can't help the way his heart flutters when Sam says that. He knows exactly why Sam has been so winsome toward him lately and he also knows Sam wants nothing more than to keep this fact hidden from everyone because if he does express how he feels, he will then be subjected to his vulnerable side, a side which a Navy SEAL like himself would _never_ begin to broach.

But it is the first Thanksgiving since G was shot. The first Thanksgiving since he almost lost G in his very arms. The first Thanksgiving that he can finally look into G's piercing blue eyes and not fear losing him like he once did. The first Thanksgiving he is truly grateful and thankful for the man before him.

It only feels natural to commiserate with G on a day like this. This is the day to give thanks for that which he has been given and he knows the greatest gift he could ever receive is the man whom he loves.

"I will have you know that people actually refer to me as a chef!"

"Some with a _really_ great sense of humor," Sam replies, taking G's chin in his hand and squeezing it lightly before he lets go to pat him softly on the cheek. "Now get your ass up and shower before everybody gets here."

G inadvertently rids himself of his shirt, handing over the cotton fabric to Sam. Sam gulps at the sight of G standing there scantily clad in just his boxers, his well defined muscles prominent now that nothing is there to cover them. "I feel like such a nuisance borrowing your clothes."

"Clothes or no clothes," Sam began as he held back his raunchy thoughts. _If you don't want to borrow my clothes, you're more than welcome to prance around in nothing at all. Even if that means you're palpably naked. Just wanted to clarify if you are wondering. _"You are always a nuisance to me."

G knows that this statement has much more meaning than Sam cares to let on. He knows that there are times when they annoy each other and bicker like the old married couple they are but it feels so comfortable. He likes the domesticity he and Sam share. Because if there is anyone he wants to continue to be a nuisance to, it would be Sam.

Only Sam.

G presses a palm against the shower wall, letting the array of scalding water beat down heavily on his flesh. He knows better than to resist the smile Sam has put on his face; he practically lives with Sam and yet he felt compelled to ask G to Thanksgiving dinner.

That simple gesture meant more to him than Sam knew.

He steps out of the glass door once he is satisfied his body is rid of uncleanliness and rubs the towel across his short, buzzed hair. He wraps the towel around his waist, not bothering to dry off the beads of moisture running across his chest to his abdomen. He places his hands on the bathroom counter, looking into the mirror to study himself. He can see the bullet holes, every last one of the circular scars. He remembers the day so clearly as if it were fresh in his mind.

But he doesn't want to think about that when he's as joyous as he is, here with Sam on Thanksgiving. Because he sure has a lot to be thankful for on this day.

He walks into the kitchen to find Sam blanketed in a cloud of flour that was _supposed_ to be for the pies. He can hear Sam coughing as the white dusts the air and he bursts into laughter at the spectacle.

"Instead of laughing hysterically at me, at my attempt of _your_ dinner, you could help me out here." Sam grumbles, wiping the flour from his eyes.

G abruptly stops laughing and his eyes shine brightly at Sam as an idea races through his mind. "Let me help you."

Sam yields in his tracks, watching as G slinks towards him at an agonizingly slow pace. He notices the hungry look in his eyes and he swallows heavily. G approaches him with a delicate manner that seems unbecoming of him and lingers only centimeters from Sam, where his penetrating blue eyes dance across to Sam's liquid brown eyes. He traces Sam's sumptuous lips with the edge of his thumb.

His eyes flicker to Sam's nose, his breath warm on Sam's face. "You missed a spot."

He didn't wait for the reply of Sam; instead he peppers a kiss to Sam's left cheek, to his right cheek and then to his nose where his tongue darts out to lick away the white powder. He moves down to capture Sam's lips with his, his kiss soft at the start and filled with the emotions he has been grappling with.

Sam's fingers tangle in the wisps of hair at G's nape and he can feel G's hand cupped over his cheek, the other splayed across his back as if he never wanted to let go. He is incapable of coherent thought but he recalls that G is only wearing a towel, his chest bare so that Sam can run his hands over the ridges and planes of his hard muscles.

His fingers loop around the towel, pulling it apart to remove it from the anatomy parts it was so frustratingly blocking, his lips still pressed against G's in a heady kiss now, but he jumps when he hears the doorbell ring. He breaks apart reluctantly from G and they exchange looks of panic. G motions frantically for Sam to get the door and he bolts for the bedroom so that he can get dressed.

G hopes that the astute observers that Dominic, Nate, Eric, Kensi and _especially_ Hetty are do not apprehend the mused hair, the swollen lips and the way a blush has found a home on his cheeks.

And of _course _the bulge protruding from his towel.

G hears them talking and laughing about Thanksgiving and he dresses hastily in the appropriate holiday attire. He flashes the guests a smile as he enters the living room, his eyes careful to avoid the searing gaze of Sam. He closes his eyes briefly and breathes shakily, immersed in the fact that Sam is watching him in a way that is not as benign as observation.

The food was gloriously set on the table, each of them moving along busily to find a seat amongst the crowd. G escapes the chaos and scampered off to follow Sam into the kitchen where he was bending down to survey the wine cabinet. He stands up and is surprised to see G but hands him a bottle of red with a smile. G removes glasses from the cabinet above, sets them on the counter, pops the cork of the bottle and begins pouring generously into each glass.

He feels Sam wrap his arms around his torso and he places one hand over the hands at his waist. Sam rests his chin on G's shoulder as he inhales the scent of G that he loves and they both look over the breakfast bar at the scene of their family together. Sam kisses his neck as a little moan escapes him and when G turns his head toward Sam, he presses his lips to his in the most affectionate kiss he can muster. He wants G to know that he means something to him.

He means everything.

"You know what I am thankful for this year?"

"What?"

Sam kisses him again with a lopsided grin and a rapacious gaze, his eyes able to convey with a look what his words never could. G feels like a giggling schoolgirl at this moment but he pays it no mind. He has Sam and that is what matters. He is safe, he is home, he is where he belongs and everything is right in the world.

"I am thankful for you."


	2. Chapter 2

Sam rolled his eyes when he witnessed G prance into the kitchen scantily clad in a Santa hat and Christmas tree printed boxers. The shirt that hung from his chest had the words _I can get you off the naughty list for the right price _embellished across the front and he couldn't help but think that it was a phrase that fit G all too well.

He might tease G about his unabashed love for this particularly holiday but it put his mind at ease to see him as happy as he was. Especially the moment a few days earlier when Sam had hauled in an enormous Christmas tree, freshly cut and smelling just like forest pine, and he and G had decorated it with G only smashing three ornaments. G had stepped back, his eyes wide as he surveyed the Christmas display and his upper lip curled in a smile with his hands buried deep in his jean pockets. "I've never had a real Christmas tree before."

As was his custom, Sam stayed silent and didn't ask the questions even though he was sure he knew the exact answers, instead letting his heart swell at the notion. He just simply observed G and the way he seemed to revert back to the childhood he never really had the chance to experience. He lost himself in the moments of time, gazing at the assortment of gifts underneath and the flashing lights encircling the tree.

G glanced around, his eyes landing on the stockings hanging from the wall underneath the clock. Another thing he had missed out on; there hung one for him and another for Sam. He was determined to look inside his stocking. He reached in, rummaging around until his fingers gripped the items.

A bouquet of lollipops.

There was one of every flavor, the kind you saw a commercial aired for that urged the viewer to determine how many licks it took to get to the center filled with chocolate, tied together loosely with a red bow. G couldn't resist the grin that spread like wildfire across his cheeks. He was amazed Sam had remembered that stakeout, the two of them alone together in their work vehicle, G chomping away on his lollipop to pass time and Sam snarking at him for not realizing that the animal he had made out of the wrapper was a swan and not a duck as G so vehemently insisted it was.

"I figured you could eat the lollipops," Sam began with an almost shy smile as he nodded his head toward the candy. "And I could make you more of my famous wrapper animals."

He peeled away the paper coating the sweet treat and instantly lifted it to his lips, tongue sliding around the edges. He uttered a sound of pleasure as the taste hit, making Sam nearly go weak at the knees. The mischievous gleam in his eye told Sam that G knew exactly what he was doing and that it was having the desired effect on Sam.

G pried it away from his teeth and held it out innocently to Sam. "You want some?"

"I do _not_ want some."

G shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself."

Sam clenched his jaw tightly in an attempt to rid himself of the visions now playing inside his head. He moved his eyes away from G, searching for a spot to focus his gaze that was anywhere but him. That was when he spotted it.

G followed the slack jawed, wide eyed stare of Sam but as quickly as his eyes had left Sam they were back again with a smirk. "Mistletoe."

It was the only word that seemed to come out but Sam was fully aware of what that word meant. He cursed whoever had hung that ridiculous plant above his bedroom door, but the annoyance soon caved in to dancing butterflies in his stomach. G always knew how to cause those even if it was unintentional.

It was simply ironic to Sam that G could be so open with him in territory like this; G had grown up in the foster care system, bounced from place to place, none of which ever _really_ felt like home and he was taught to keep to himself at all costs because it was the key to survival. Sam was always the one who kept his feelings at bay, bottled inside even though he had grown up with a loving family who had encouraged him to share. G was relaxed and carefree as he faced whatever challenge was hurled his way while Sam was cautious and more reluctant as he deliberately obeyed the rules.

Yet there he stood, with his megawatt grin, that damn cocky smirk Sam loved to hate, a twinkle in his piercing blue eyes as they danced under the fluorescent lights. G was inching closer by the second and Sam was racking his brain for a coherent sentence, _something _to ward G off before he had his form anywhere closer to his.

But it was too late because G had his body pressed against Sam, his breath coming faster and shallow now. He closed the gap between them and seemed to be going for a peck on the cheek but at the last second he changed his mind, brushing his lips over Sam's lips in a soft kiss. G melded his mouth perfectly with Sam's as he deepened the kiss but just as quickly as he had done so he pulled away again, leaving the briefest impression of his lips on Sam's.

Sam absentmindedly fingered his lower lip, wishing G hadn't halted the kiss that had made him tingle all over. G gave him a cheeky grin that only made his insides churn with delight more and G uttered a simple Merry Christmas before walking towards the Christmas tree to open his gifts, humming a Christmas carol as he went.


End file.
